This blog includes 52 Stories in 52 Weeks, which was done in 2007, along with some metaphysical or life lectures. There is artwork and videos, too. I started writing and drawing with two hands around the year 2001 as a mental and brain development experiment on my own brain to restructure my brain's neurons, etc. again. Simply put, using two hands to write and draw forces both sides of the brain to connect together, to become a holistic, stronger, improved brain. I hope you enjoy my blog.

Sunday, April 29, 2007

Sally's Day At The Zoo

52 Stories in 52 Weeks: ## 17 Sally’s Day At The Zoo

By: Mr. George D. Patnoe Jr.'s Ambidextrous Brain + Mind.


This Story is Dedicated to Anita Andrews. A special person who taught me something about communication.


As Sally sat in her white plastic yard recliner, with its pattern of wild animals on it, the patterns of lions and tigers and birds, Sally looked up towards the clear blue sky and she noticed a large seagull flying around in a circle, as if it had no where to go, but who did not want to stand still on a nice, warm, sandy beach somewhere. Sally sometimes felt that way too. As she watched the seagull fly around in long, wide circles, she noticed it looking down towards herself and in one long and deep dive, the seagull softly floated and then it softy landed on a yardchair’s white steel frame. Sally hesitantly looked into the seagulls eyes, and then she gently threw some cookies crumbs onto the cement floor. After the seagull finished eating those crumbs, Sally started to toss some bread at it, and of course, the hungry seagull ate it all up. With a flick of her wrist, the radio started playing its soft classical violin music, and the seagull started to listen to the music. It seemed as if Sally had found a bird friend, if only for a moment in time, on the big planet called earth. Sally knew that even though the seagull possessed a memory, the bird would probably soon fly away, never to be seen again. That happens in the realm of friendships on planet earth, especially when applied to the wild animals.

But still, the seagull un-predicatively hung around as the music flowed from the radio’s speakers, because Sally had guessed, the seagull had probably never heard human music before this very special moment in time, and classical music at that. So a moment to create a temporary connection between the somewhat lonely Sally and a seemingly lonely seagull. Sally again, threw out a piece of bread every once in a while, as the seagull started to move a bit different after a while. Sally noticed that the seagull changed its movements from flappy walking to a bit of a dancy prancing, almost as if it wanted to dance. Even a little bob of the head too, if you can imagine that!

Sally searchingly looked into the dark iris of the seagull’s eye and she began to stare into the black spot called the iris, the spot where some Asian cultures believe is ‘The Window to the Soul.’ Sally started to wonder what that quote meant as she watched the seagull stare back at her. ‘Is that seagull trying to make a statement?’ wondered Sally. No sooner had the thought ended, did the seagull flutter its wings and it flew up to the table where the radio was placed. Sally stood very still as her heart beat increased and her mind became so excited at the possibility that the seagull actually felt her thoughts and then somehow understood them, along with the seagull enjoying classical music. Then Sally noticed the red ribbon around the seagull’s leg. ‘How did that red ribbon get tangled up on that seagull’s thin bird leg?’ wondered Sally.

All of a sudden, Sally felt the need to explore the globe, to search out nature’s diversified animals, with their diversified minds, and abilities, and colors, and shapes, and sizes. Sally wondered if that red ribboned seagull was giving her the urge to explore something, at that moment. But Sally did not have the money to travel to Africa; the second largest continent with 11.62 million square miles to visit the animals that she saw in her animal books. Even if Sally had just won the state lottery, she knew that she probably would not hop onto a plane, to fly across the ocean, to visit Africa, - the land of the wild animals. She knew that it would be a very busy adventure, maybe to busy to visit all of the animals in Africa. After all, what would the animals of the world tell Sally if they could talk? And yet, Sally was really tired of just looking at animal pictures in her animal books, and she was even tired of watching animals shows on her huge televison screen. Somehow, Sally knowingly felt as if she was missing something, as if she was divided by sheets of paper, by a camera’s lens, by how someone else wanted her to see and feel the animals, to see only shapely colorful skin and fur, even as they hunted and were being hunted.

If Sally did indeed travel to the lands of wild animals and wild people, what would she see, but animals standing still, walking or running on the ground, hunting other animals, eating leaves off of trees, or trying to avoid the human tourists. As Sally sat still in her backyard chair, with the seagull watching her as it listened to the radio’s music, Sally opened up her biggest animal picture book to look at the world’s animals. She knew that she would not find the animal called the human animal, because she knew that all she needed to do to find the human animal was to look out the window or turn on the television. Sally thought to herself, ‘If animals could talk and write, what would they say?’ Maybe not much, but maybe a lot, especially if they could learn about mathematics and science and music and maybe others subjects like new ideas regarding the principles of flight to improve an airplanes and spaceship’s performance for interstellar travel.

Sally would usually opened the book anywhere in the middle, just to get started and then she would flip the pages either backwards or forwards, all depending on her mood. Her memory was like that too! In her middle age called human life, Sally found herself thinking about the past; her childhood and how she was raised up by her human parents and by society, while at other times she would be thinking about the future, especially the possibility of an afterlife. Sally always wondered how the animals and birds thought about such subjects; but after Sally had read through her animals books, and after she watched the television's nature stations, she did arrive at some fundamental conclusions on animals and death.

One of her biggest conclusions was that any animal who lived only in a cage, who was born in a cage, who never climbed a tree, or paddled through the muddy rivers, or who never climbed up some steep rocks, or who never experienced the four changing seasons in the wild, or who never slept in a cave, or who never caught a fish in the river, or who never heard the wolf’s howling or an owl’s hoots at night, or never saw the sunset before a cold night, or who ever escaped the death claws of a big bear, or who never learned to jump over a farmer’s steel and jagged edged fence, or never heard the ricochet of a farmer’s bullet after it hit a rock, that animal never really lived.

But if the animal did experience a natural and normal animal life, it would have learned to treasure life because he had learned that life was very precious after it realized that certain creatures would eat it for dinner. Or maybe the animal saw its fellow animal, maybe a partner, die a slow or even a fast death, by naturals wish or by the farmer’s bullet. But when all was said and written about it, the animal somehow inwardly knew, that everyday was a gift, because it could keep on experiencing the sun’s rays, and the moon’s glow, and the pretty flowers in the fields, and the clean and rushing waters of a river or the calm waters of a pond or lake and if the animal was a true animal with a brain, it would look up at the white spots in the sky and dream of a dream of life, another life somewhere far beyond the life on earth, even if it was a good life on earth.

Sally opened her animal picture and fact book to a page with two big Brown Bears. The first big Brown Bear was standing on its rear feet in a zoo’s white and gray enclosure, as it starred back at the human onlookers. The second big Brown Big was standing in the wild rivers of some river somewhere in the world, as its bear paw guided a huge trout fish into its mouth. As Sally looked at both pictures, she felt the need to touch each picture, as if to connect with each bear, even though she had already guessed what each bear must have feeling deep within its soul.
Two bears talking on a bear phone:. ‘Hey, how do you like your new home in the zoo?’ ‘Well, living in the zoo has it good points and its bad points. They feed me good food everyday, but I have to stare at so many of those humans as they take camera shots at me. I miss my freedom, but I do not have to worry about anything. Yet, it would be nice to just roam free from one wooded area to another, like my pappa and mamma bears did. What do you think about staying out there in the wild?’

The second bear might have stated in English, if it could talk, ‘Well, I still feel sorry for you because I get to hunt as the wild animal that I am. And I still have my thick and heavy fur to protect me from the weather, and I still have my caves to hide in during the summer and for protection from the winter’s cold in the winter time. And more importantly, I do not have to stare back at those boring humans. You know, we bears have survived many of generations of freedom, you lazy bear.’

Sally was only guessing that some big Brown Bears would like the best of both worlds. To be free during the day, and to able to return to the zoo home at night when they needed to relax. Sally had that option too, so Sally looked at the seagull and she said, ‘Good -bye.’ as she turned off the radio, she stood up, and walked inside her house to get ready for her trip to the zoo. She had traveled to the zoo before, with friends and family members, but never alone. For some reason, she decided to take a warm shower, dress in her zoo clothes, step into her car and drive the forty five minutes to the local zoo. If she wanted to visit another zoo, she knew that she would have to hop aboard an airplane and stay in nice hotel, and then visit the zoo of her choice. She also knew that even if she did visit a different zoo, it would contain the same basic animals as those in her local zoo. If she wanted to just watch some animals, she could turn on her tv to watch some animals or nature show or she could have watched a DVD movie of animals, but she decided she wanted to try something different. She wanted to try to communicate with some wild animals. She just felt the urge, to try to communicate with the wild, but zooed animals!

Driving to the local zoo, she had already pictured the zoo and the animals such as bears, tigers, zebras, monkeys, elephants, and the colorful birds and the snakes and the reptiles of lizards, snakes, turtles, and the other earth creatures in her mind. She really tried to separate all of these creatures from the wooden fences, steel bars, steel cages, and the cement rooms, but she could not. She tried to visualize them in their natural habitats of the forest or the jungle or the woods, or even in her backyard, but her mind was preparing itself for the zoo, so her mental picture of the zoo seemed to imprison her own mind, even though she was only driving to the zoo. Her mind began to realize how even the mental picture of the zoo seem to limit her own conception of what the animals were as real creatures. She too, began to feel trapped by the limited images of colorful fur and skin and their shapely bodies, which were all trapped inside the different sizes and shapes of cages of steel and cement and water and glass. Maybe the fish felt some fishy freedom was missing, even if they did feel safe from fish predators.

As Sally walked up to the zoo’s entrance, she noticed all of the colorful signs and fences with the colorfully painted smiling animals being surrounded by tall trees and colorful flowers and plants, but she knew that the animal paintings were only a reminder that humans could only fantasize about the zoo’s animal’s being wild, but they would never be truly wild within the zoo. After paying her $9.00 for the daily ticket, she began the long walk around the zoo. She bought a bag of popcorn and a orange / lemonade soft drink to cool off her very warm body. ‘Need energy for the day.’ she thought. As she walked away from the food stand, she noticed a seagull on the ground. When Sally noticed the red ribbon, she almost fainted, but she caught herself from being overly excited. How could it be? She thought. Sally hurriedly tossed some popcorn at the seagull. The seagull squawked.

As Sally walked past the first few cages, she surprisingly began to feel the mental atmosphere change from that of the outside world, the world beyond the tall wooden and steel fences. Gone was the world of computers, televisions, cars and trains and airplanes. Gone was the world of the stock market, the political problems, even the wars all over the world. Gone was the churches and the people who believe in heaven and hell. Gone were the schools for children, and adults alike. Sally began to realize that the zoo was in one sense, a completely different world from which the outside world. In a real way, the zoo was a completely different world than the outside world of people and material things. It was a completely different mental world.

Therefore, the minds of the animals, along with the collective mind of the zoo, were going to be very different than the collective minds of people and their events in the outside world. If the minds of the animals were confined within the zoo’s walls, then maybe she would be able to feel that state of mind, just as she would feel the world’s mind when she exited the zoo. Sally decided to consciously leave the outside world out of her mind as she opened her mind up to the zoo’s mind.

So Sally felt her mind changed too. She found herself being no longer concerned with money problems, and car problems, and her bosses problems, and her own personal psychological issues, and her night dream worlds, and her day world, and her parents worlds, and her grandparents worlds. And as a matter of fact; in one very real sense, almost every historical human event did not exist within the walls of the zoo. ‘It was the Zoo Zone!’ thought Sally. The zoo felt like a different world because it was a different world! Just as the oceans were a different world from the air world, from the dirt world, from the people dream world, and even from the space world.

The collective minds of all the animals were aware of people, but they were not remotely knowledgeable about the people world, the people universe. This was especially true if the animals were born in the zoo. The current zoo animals could not know about the millions of years of history of the people world, with their wars, and human technological developments, and space ships, and of its music. The zoo’s animals were truly free to walk only inside their cages while they were partly free of the human mind, and its errors regarding life and death and space and time and even communication. The human animal basically believe that communications is purely material, while some wild animals know better.

Sally thought to herself that maybe she should began to look past the animal’s skin and bones, to their meta-being. As Sally looked at a group of bears, she wondered, what if I was inside their brains, inside their minds, what would I see, if I could tap into their bear brains. What would happen if I could read the mind of an animal, along with communicate with it, as they do with each other?’ Just as Sally thought up of the possibility of the concept of telepathic communication with the animals, a nice old gentleman walked by her. He stopped short, turned around, and remarked to Sally, ‘Of course it is possible. And the zoo is a good place to begin to learn to become inwardly silent enough to listen to the animals who are also mind reading you. By the way, my name is Frank, and I am in charge of helping people communicate with the animals.’

Sally quietly starred at Frank, as she looked him over. Frank wore a tan outdoors outfit, with brown boots, and a white and tan stripped vented hat. Frank said, ‘I noticed that you were looking at the Brown Bears, lets walk over to the elephants.’ So they walked over to the elephants and Frank said to Sally, ‘I sense that you are wondering what the animals feel about death and the afterlife.’ Sally simple nodded yes, and kept walking with Frank until they arrived at the elephant grounds. Sally stood very still as she glared into one seemingly sad elephant’s tiny eyes. She sensed that while Frank was watching them, he knew what was happening between Sally and the elephant. A telepathic connection was being made between Sally and the elephant.

Frank said, ‘That elephant has not opened up to a single human since she arrived here, at the zoo. We were hoping that that elephant would meet a person that it would trust, so we could get to know it better. It seems so sad, but how are we supposed to know what is bothering it if it is mentally closed to any telepathic communication?’ Sally did not say a word to Frank as she felt a strange sensation within her mind. Frank stayed still as he knew if that connection was going to be made between Sally and the elephant, but it would be the elephant’s decision to open up to Sally. Out of no where, it seemed, that red ribboned seagull flew on the elephants back. Frank said, ‘I have never seen that before.’ Sally replied, ‘It seems that that seagull is following me around today, as funny as that might sound.’

The red ribboned seagull flew over to Sally and Sally rudely tossed some more popcorn at it.

‘Frank, do you mind if I walk up to the elephant to touch it? You could watch or come with me if you wish?’ Frank answered, ‘Sure Sally, sure.’ So they slowly walked over to the elephant and the seemingly sad elephant’s tiny eyes moved towards Frank and Sally. Frank backed off a bit by slowly walking backwards. The elephant’s long trunk swung towards Sally, but Sally did not move. Sally took out a juicy apple from an arm bag and she let the elephant’s trunk suck it up, to move it to its mouth. Sally began to gently pet the elephant. The elephant did not move. Sally moved around to the front of the elephant, and she looked into the elephant’s eyes. Sally wondered what to do next, as she looked over towards Frank; but Frank held up his arms and hands in mid air, as if to state, ‘It is up to you, Sally.’ Then, Sally noticed that seagull with red ribbon around its thin bird leg.

Sally remembered the radio, and then she asked Frank to get a battery powered radio. Frank quickly left and within ten minutes, he arrived with the radio in his hand. He handed the radio over to Sally and Sally turned on the radio to the classical music station. The elephants’s ear perked up and the elephant started flapping her huge ears. Sally turned up the radio’s volume and the elephant let out an elephant’s roar. Sally turned her head around to smile at Frank, but Frank was smiling such a wide smile that Sally knew Frank liked the elephant’s response, even though she did not know the whole story regarding the mammoth creature.

Frank told Sally that the elephant had not roared or even flapped its ears since it had arrived at the zoo a few months ago. Frank looked so happy that Sally began to feel good about the day, and even about the seagull. ‘Hey Frank, where did that seagull go?’ Frank answered, ‘I did not see it fly off.’ The elephant stepped over to Sally and it gently felt Sally’s arm. Sally stood very still. Sally was not quiet sure what to do, so she closed her eyes for what seemed a second. A very clear image quickly developed in Sally’s mind.

In what seemed to be a waiting station in Africa, Sally saw the elephant in a large room, with the radio playing some Africa classical music. Sally then saw the elephant's partner drop to the floor and die. The elephant then walked over to its partner and touched the dead elephant with her trunk, while the classical music played in the background. Sally kept looking at the radio, as the elephant flapped its ears back and forth, seemingly to the music. Sally quickly opened her eyes and she yelled to Frank, ‘Hey Frank, I think this elephant likes to listen to the radio.’ Frank laughed out loud as he responded, ‘Sally, I think that you are correct.’ Sally walked over to Frank as Frank put out his hand to give a congratulatory hand shake to Sally. ‘I did not know you had that gift in you.’ stated Frank. Sally smiled as she said, ‘Neither did I.’

Frank said, ‘The elephant helper quit last week and we are looking for a replacement. How would you like a job working for the zoo, working right here with the elephants? We will train you, but you seem to have a handle on the stuff that can not be taught.’ Sally looked around at the brown wooden fences, the silver steel cages, the cement walls and floors, she looked into the elephant’s eyes as she answered, ‘Why not. I can always quit.’ as she heard the response of Frank’s laughter, the elephant’s roar, the seagull’s squawking, and the modern day classical music, all within the walls of a zoo.

When Elephants Weep: by Jeffrey Masson and Susan McCarthy
The Language of Silence and Letters to Strongheart: by J. Allen Boone.
Inside The Animal Mind: by George Page

Saturday, April 21, 2007

Gary the Gardener

52 Stories in 52 Weeks: ## 16 Gary the Gardener

By: Mr. George D. Patnoe., Jr.'s Ambidextrous Brain + Mind.

Gary the Gardener had never stepped into a church all the days of his very, very long life, but he wonderfully worshiped all life, just as those who stepped into a wooden or stone church to truly worship God or to just pretend to worship God. Of course, Gary the Gardener knew that many people who entered a church to worship their personal sense of God, also worshiped life when they left a material church, but Gary also realized many church goers forgot about God and life as soon as they stepped outside the material church. Gary knew that so many church goers just do not worship life after they leave the church. "How could that be?’ Always wondered Gary. Then again, Gary also knew that earth carried on it surface so many billions of people who worshiped neither life, or God, nor even in the material church.

Once a week, the many church goers would step into their church for a single hour, as they could not wait to get out of the church to eat or drink or to piss or to watch tv or to watch a football game or to do a million other things besides worshiping the make believe god whom they did not care to worship in the first place. On the other hand, Gary would step into his garden almost every day, and he would sometimes stay in the garden for an hour or more, without ever thinking about anything else. He would not think about food, or water, or football games, or other people or about any of the other millions of things that other people wanted to do, especially on Sunday afternoon.

The church goers would sing songs out loud, while Gary would listen to the sound of life in his garden, and of the heavens, even to the bird’s tunes, even if those tunes were not pointed directly to God or even to Gary. The church goers would praise an make believe and unknown god, while Gary would praise life on earth. The church goers would look up towards the ceiling, while Gary would look up towards the sun and to the moon and to the stars. The church goers would dress in their prettiest Sunday church clothes, while Gary would dress up in some holey old clothes that would be dirty in no time at all; at least on some days. The church goers would bring their Bibles to church with them, while Gary would bring his Bible out to the garden. The church goers would sit in their fancy chairs, with their soft cushions, while Gary would usually sit on an old wooden chair, with a cup of warm coffee. The church goers would listen to a preacher rambling off words while Gary would listen to the invisible heavens for signs and for spiritual inspiration.

Signs of spiritual inspiration from the invisible heavens, from the invisible universe which some physical scientists guess is the 90% dark matter, but which Gary called the angels airless domain. While some physical scientists saw a possible matter of darkness, and others saw as the difference between heaven and hell, Gary saw the possibility of lightness. Understand dear readers, Gary was not just a gardener of the ground; he was also a gardener of the mind. Gary had leaned so many years ago, that a person needs both the physical food for the human stomach, while they also need the spiritual food for the mind. It was one thing to plant seeds in the ground, knowing that they would sprout up to be plants, or flowers, or watermelons, or corn, or some natural nectar for the hummingbird and butterflies, but it was another thing to plant the spiritual seeds into the minds of human beings so they would grow up to be spiritual creatures instead of limited physical bodies.

Gary’s garden possessed flowers from around the world, some millions of years old.. (not the flowers, the flower species) Along with the roses from around the world, there were sky blue Morning Glories, and yellow and red Strawflowers, and the white and yellow butterfly Orchid Beauty and the pinkish red Cockscomb, and the sleepy Hollow Flowers, and the babylon red Gahli, and far west Gladiolus, and the assorted colored hybrid Zantedeschia, and the el desperado Hemerocallis flower. Just to name a few!

One day, in Gary’s old age, he went for a Sunday morning walk, away from his rather large and complex garden. He sometimes walk on Sunday, as a true gentleman would walk. But when he did walk on Sunday, Gary would dress in the proper attire of a nice dark pinstripe or solid dark suit, with a nice tie, usually a tie with some sort of angel pattern on the tie. Gary had learned long ago not to be afraid of walking into a restaurant with an angel tie, although he knew that many people would never ever dream of walking anywhere with an angel pattern on their tie, shirt, or even as a picture in their wallet. Anyway, on this one Sunday, Gary was really hungry, so Gary went for a walk to eat a big meal of eggs, and bacon, and orange juice, and french coffee, and the just for the fun of it, if there was any room in his stomach, cake and ice cream. When Gary began his Sunday morning walk, he took a different route to a different restaurant. He thought to himself, "Lets walk through the local park, so I can enjoy the park’s flower garden, and it trees, and its whispers of heavenly delights; maybe a vibe, or message, or just the colors of naturals gifted wonderments.

As he walked through the park’s garden, with its tall and old redwood trees, he noticed the little church building that was located off a stone path, away from the view of most walkers. The building was painted a redwood color, with dark colored wooden beams which held up the building’s walls and roof. The building’s color was so like the natural color of the huge redwood trees, that the church blended in with the natural color of the forest. If Gary did not know better, he almost thought that the building was invisible, because he had never seen it before. ‘How strange.’ thought Gary, as his eyes was seemingly forced to look towards the ground next to the building.

As he walked towards the strange looking flowers that radiated some sort of invisible energy that Gary had never felt or seen before now. The flower’s peddles color looked yellowish-golden, almost like a statue brass shiny flower, only these gold-yellowish peddles seemed to be glowing with a rare colored light. ‘Are those some sort of special flowers?’ wondered Gary. As he walked towards the flowers, he could feel the intensity of the energy grow with every step. Gary knew something about the energy of plants and flowers and of all living cells. It was an energy that some humans called physical, but which Gary knew to be a reflection of the inner essence of each living creature, and sometimes it was a reflection of the Grand Divine Creator of all soulful creatures. As Gary lowered his body down to touch the seemingly magical flowers, the church door opened and a lady who wore a red dress stepped out onto the church’s step. ‘Good morning, dear sir. We have been waiting for you.’

Gary would not let the moment go, as he touched the flowers, to feel their life energy, to sense and to feel the glow within living creatures on planet earth; living creatures who depend on the sun as Gary depended on his own divine oneness with the divine Creator of the universe, including life on planet earth. Just as the sun seems to be far away from the earth and all of the earth’s life, including the flowers and plants, the sun’s invisible rays gives all plants and flowers their needed warmth from the sun. So too, Gary knew that the light of God filled all space, throughout all time, only not in the form of some wishful thinking of some material essence, but as of the aura of an all powerful intelligence called Mind and Love.

‘Waiting for me?’ questioned Gary as he gave her a strange glare of doubt. ‘Are not you Gary the Gardener?’ Asked the lady in the red dress. ‘Yes, I am.’ answered Gary. ‘We have been waiting for you to walk this way.’ Said the lady. ‘Why? answered Gary, as he stood up to shake the ladies hand. As he reached out to grab hold of her reached out hand, he began to feel her energetic aura, only it felt like the aura of the golden plant he had just touched. She answered, ‘Because we have heard about your love for flowers and all plants, and how you see and feel the life energy which flows from all plants and flowers. We also know how you can see the universal divine essence as you sit outside in your garden. Not every person appreciates earth’s special unhuman life forms. As you know Gary, plants have been around for millions of years, so they have a history all their own. Plus, without flowers, the insects, bees, hummingbirds, and other nectar eaters would not exist. But you already know that. Don’t you?’

Gary noticed the thick silver locks on the solid steel doors. ‘Why are there locks on the doors of the church? asked Gary. The patient silver haired lady said, ‘Not everyone is invited to our church. Come on in. Take a look at our church, will you? I think that you will like this church of ours.’ Gary stepped forward as he stated, ‘Where did these golden flowers come from?’ The lady giggled a bit as she stated, ‘Gary, where do all flowers come from?’

As Gary stepped up, onto the strange churches steps, he smelled the sweetest aroma he had ever smelled before in his life. He stopped short of the door as his nose and brain could only handle the powerfully sweet aroma for just so long. ‘Wow!’ stated Gary. The lady turned around and responded, ‘That is the flowers way of saying hi to you Gary. They know a real flower lover and plant lover from the people who do not love the simple, yet beautiful creatures of planet earth. You will get used to the smell, but the flowers might simply relax now that they know you have arrived.’ Gary face changed a shade of color as he asked, ‘The flowers were expecting me?’

She waved Gary into the strange church. As they walked into the church, the lady’s dress changed from a red to a pure white, but almost invisible white; and her skin seemed to disappear too. Gary rubbed his eyes. Gary looked down onto his hands because his own skin’s color seemed to be changing too. As a matter of fact, Gary’s mind began to become a bit dizzy and fuzzy, almost as if he had been drugged by the flower’s airy sweetness. But he remained silent as the confusion in his mind caused him to wonder more and more if this was just a night dream. But he just knew that he was awake when he started his normal day, which of course he knew by now was not normal at all, unless we are talking about supernatural day. ‘Is she an angel?’ thought Gary. His eyes became mesmerized by the church’s interior design and decorations.

A church filled with the prettiest of flowers which seemed so pretty, that they seemed to belong to another world, another dimension. Gary looked around the church and it seemed so much bigger on the inside than on the outside. "Is the space inside this church an illusion or mirage? thought Gary. "No it is not?’ answered the lady. Gary’s head turned towards the lady and said, "How did you know what I was thinking?" The seemingly changing lady glowed a smile to Gary, "The same way that you know how all of those plants and flowers in your garden are feeling." Gary began to bite his tongue because he had not known a person like this, nor the flowers in this special church. Gary the earthly gardener looked around to feel this flowers and plants and they almost seemed more alive than he, he thought to himself.

Gary looked at all of the flower’s colors, and all of those mixture of colors; the shiny blues, and bright yellows, and the dull reds, and the greens leaves, and the pink and whites, and those flowers that looked as if they had eyes starring back at Gary. ‘Are those spots or eyes?’ thought Gary as he looked straight into a group of pink flowers with small rounded dark round spots with a tiny holes in the middle of the small round spots. ‘Are they eyes?’ thought Gary, as he started to laugh out loud. Within the smallest fraction of an instant, Gary felt a vibration on his skin. ‘Wow, what was that?’

The lady who seemed to floating away into a distant row of flowers said, "Gary, they are trying to communicate with you, just as your earthly garden flowers communicate with you. Only these flowers are somewhat different from your everyday garden flowers.’ As Gary began to settle down to his inner state of mind, to his natural garden state of mind, he started to remember his home garden and how he would become so still and silent within his own consciousness, as he would remember the psalm that read, "Seldom is there a soul still enough to hear God speak." Gary started to realize that he should not be surprised that these special flowers could feel the thoughts and feelings of himself, nor should he treat them with the disrespect that a normal human might treat plants outside of this seemingly magical church.

Gary stated to get a mental handle on his state of mind as he began to treat these flowers with love and kindness, with a regard for their living intelligence, even if that intelligence was different than the human intelligence, or of the machine intelligence, or of a cosmic intelligence, or of an Almighty God Intelligence which was said to be the guiding intelligence of all life, everywhere, on all levels. As Gary touched a bright blue flowers, he started to see the blue sky that cover planet earth. ‘Strange.’ thought Gary, ‘Are the flowers playing a mental mind game with me?’ So he touched a red flower and he started to mentally see the red blood of dying men during a war which he had been a solider. Gary had remembered many friends dying in his arms during the war, which only caused Gary to look up to the clear blue sky and wonder about life and death. He started to remember how he could feel their souls leaving their bodies as he heard the bullets flying past him and the bombs were dropping from the noisy planes. The only painful memories in Gary’s mind.

Gary then touched a yellow flower and he remembered the sun, as he began to feel the sun’s warmth after one of those war battles had ended. He remembered lying on the damp beach as he saw the sun move across the sky, as the earth’s dirt was soaked in the red blood of dying men. ‘Is this some sort of mind trick? wondered Gary. Then he saw his home garden with the sun’s rays warming up his flowers. ‘I wonder what time it is? he thought. I should be getting back home soon. He looked around and he saw a golden leaf flower. He walked over to the golden flower and he touched it. Golden statues sprang up within his mind. Naked people who believed that the their skin and bones and blood bodies were on earth, only to be worshiped. It seemed to Gary that some people cared not at all about life on earth, nor life in the heavens, nor life in their dreams, nor life in others universes. Some people believed that their skin and bones were life, but Gary knew that was one of the biggest lies that men and ladies believed in, until they awoke from their earthly dreamy limitations to higher conceptions of life. From Adam to Jesus, thought Gary.

‘Not so soon.’ he could hear her say. ‘You can not go home yet. You have more to see.’ the lady stated as if an echo was calling out from another room. ‘She must be busy tending to her plants and flowers.’ though Gary. As Gary walked over to the center of the special church, he saw a huge tree that seemed to have puck ed its way straight through the roof of the church’s ceiling. But as he looked up towards the ceiling, he realized that there was no ceiling, just the sun’s rays flowing into the church. ‘Funny. I do not remember a tree poking its way through the roof when I walked up to the church. What is going on here?’ thought Gary.

No sooner had he asked the question that the lady voice echoed its way into Gary’s ear, though Gary began to realize that he was not really conscious of his ears any more, nor of the earthly and physical sound waves in this land of flowery paradise. ‘Gary, you have been on earth for so long, as you helped those flowers and plants grow in your backyard and in your huge and beautiful garden, that you have cared more about life than material things, that we thought that we should reward you with a special day, at a special garden here in your heavenly state of mind. And not only to care for the flowers and plants, but to communicate with them too. You have learned a great metaphysical fact, Gary. That life and intelligence is so much bigger and grander than all of human knowledge could testify to.’

Gary could hear an invisible humming from the air, from the plants and flowers. He sat down on a seemingly soft rock, next to a strange watery pond and he wondered what all of that meant. ‘Heavenly state of mind.’ I am just an old man, nearly one hundred years old. The only heavenly state of mind that I could wish for would be if I died and went to better garden with flowers and plants who could communicate with me even better than my earthly flowers.’ Gary heard some popping and clapping, even as he could see not a singly human bodily form in the church of flowers and plants and trees. He looked at the stillness of the pond’s surface and he became calmer still. Then, for some reason, he looked at his reflection on top of the water.

Gary did a double take as he stared into the water. ‘For what a man may wish, so shall he become.’ Gary starred into the water as he saw his face transform from that of a tired face of an old man to a cleaned and clearer face with no more tears of humanly cares and woes, or memories. His inward heart began to change too. He felt funny, lighter, even clearer. His memory was dimming faster and faster as he realized what was happening to him. His skin and bones were dying as they were being transformed into some kind of new stuff. While old things passes away, he was becoming a new creature, while his spiritual soul seemed to be the same forever more.

‘Gary, we need someone to take care of these special flowers and plants in this realm before we guide them down to earth, if that ever happens. We hope that one day, all earthlings will begin to see flowers and plants and trees with the meta-state of mind that you learned to develop a long time ago. Gary, you are being rewarded your place in your own heavenly state of mind because you were kind to all living creatures and you killed not for the sake of killing. But it is not only your state of mind, Gary. It is a state of mind that anyone can develop, even while they are on earth. To see and hear the flowers and plants and trees as they are in the higher dimension of meta-life, not as they are normally seen as dumb sticks and leaves to be misused and destroyed, with no rhyme or reason.’

Gary realized that he was no more breathing oxygen, that he no longer felt a heartbeat, that he no longer felt pain, nor that he needed to eat or drink. As he heard a sound from the distance, he again saw the lady and she looked brighter than before. Though she no longer possessed the human form, just the same voice. ‘So Gary, what do you think of your new life?’ ‘I am not going back to earth am I? he asked. ‘No Gary, you are not. To the world, you are now dead, but do not let that bother you much, because while you wanted to live life and preserve life on earth, most people just wanted to kill to eat; as sad as that is, Gary. So what do you think about your dreamy but new life?’

As Gary realized what had happen, even the flowers and plants started to change their appearance to a pure individual realms of glowing energy, and then they would revert back to the seemingly earthly forms of leaves and buds and stems, etc. As Gary quickly accepted his new state of affairs, he noticed other human forms arriving to greet him. Some of those forms looked more human than energy, while other forms stayed in their pure energetic states. He recognized a few forms of a few loved ones and also of some of his old garden friends, whom he had known long ago, on earth that is. ‘Hi Gary, welcome to the new garden show. What do you think of these shiny purple flowers over here?’ As naturally as the sun ‘sets’ everyday, so did Gary naturally walk ( or float ) over to his old garden friends and he started to learn about his new world, with its new flowers and plants and trees.

He heard a sharp whistle. He turned around to see the lady waving good bye as she walked (or floated) off into the distant realm of light. ‘Have fun and learn all you can, Gary. Learning about life never stops, even here!

** The Secret Life of Plants ** by: Peter Tompkins and Christopher Bird

Saturday, April 14, 2007

Caprice the Clown

52 Stories in 52 Weeks: 2007 ## 15 Caprice the Clown

By: Mr. George D. Patnoe., Jr's Ambidextrous Brain + Mind.

As Caprice reached out to touch the photo that was taped onto her makeup mirror, she wondered how so many people on earth could have lived for so many millions of years without a camera or recording device to record their lives on earth. All of those individual lives that could have made a difference to future humans, who wanted to quickly develop their own mental tools for learning and living. Caprice wondered, ‘ how many people had progressive ideas and grand thoughts and spiritual and metaphysical inspirations and experiences from other and higher realms, but who could not record those higher visions of life and the universe, so they could be relayed to the future of progressive thinkers.

As most workers who leave their house for their employer, Caprice needed to dress up in her professional attire, so she sat on her special chair, in front of her special mirror, as she transformed herself from an average everyday person, to a performer for the thousands of circus and clown fans who would watch the magical show of the circus. As Caprice touched the old photo, she hoped that it would survive until her last breath on earth. The circus photo was the last photo that she possessed of her childhood, after she had watched her childhood house burn to the ground, the one circus photo had somehow slipped out of the house, and gently floated out of the dark sky into her hand. As she knew that she and her family were all lucky enough to be alive in the cold night air, she wondered how the only item of the house would survive the hot flames, was the one picture; the picture of the circus which her mom had taken, just a few months before the destructive fire.

As the glaring yellow flames engulfed the house, the heavenly stars shone their light from high above their family’s misfortune, but a misfortune with a huge lesson for Caprice. Caprice had soon learned how all earthly and material items could burn up in smoke, and how unimportant they were in the whole scheme of life and the future of mankind. Within the gigantic and lively flames, a message was sent to Caprice that she would never forget, picture or no picture. From high above the roar of the house, which was burning and crashing down to the ground, another message was seen in the specks of stars high above where Caprice stood as a statue; her shocked mind raced from one idea to another idea, almost as if she were jumping from one star to another star, all with their own ideas of what life is and what it should be. But how would she ever know about life in other solar systems?

As she looked into the photo for the thousandth time, she also looked onto a photo next to the circus photo. An astronomy photograph with multi-scenes of different galaxies. ‘If life was different to me, I might have been an astronaut, but here I am a clown, although without a ounce of regret for bringing laughter into the hearts of children.’ She thought to herself. Looking back onto the clown photograph, she saw the huge ring with the two smaller rings on each end of the huge ring. Huge elephants were walking out of the huge ring as the clowns were walking into the smaller ring, as they began to amuse the crowds with funny movements, and acts, and jokes, and of course, their clown costumes.

Caprice had always entered the circle of the circus ring, just as she had entered the circle of life, with a giggling smile and the sense of wonderment that only a few human individuals possess at birth, and fewer still possess as they walk through their earthly life’s trials. But before she entered the circus ring, she needed to prepare herself by putting clown makeup on her face and as she slipped into her clown clothes. Slipping into her clown outfit of the yellow stars on the red clown pants and the red stars on the yellow clown shirt, she would began the normal transformation from being a regular human being, with the everyday problems, to being a silly, yet serious clown whose job it was to make people laugh, so as they too, would forget their normal everyday lives for a few hours, with the hope that their circus memories would linger and pop up every once in while throughout their lives.

Caprice’s own childhood memories of her visits to the circus had carried her forward in her clown life. She own the circus picture her parents had taken and they were taped onto her makeup mirror. Caprice would look at them, to remind her of her mission, just before she stood up to walk out of the dressing room, leaving behind the world of seriousness to enter the world of fun and games. So many clowns worked at the circus for the money, while Caprice worked at the circus for fun and for another hidden reason; a reason that she could not tell a single soul. Caprice had a special gift, some clowns called her gift the special touch.

The sounds of the circus were many; elephants roaring, tigers roaring, horses waiting, men running around as they were taking care of the ring’s needs, as the roar of the ring master yelled to the crowd through the loud speakers, signaling when the clowns were supposed to entertain the crowds, between the major events of the circus ring. And then there were the leaders of the circus. The circus managers who gave orders to this guy or that guy; but mainly, everyone knew what they were supposed to do because each person had performed their individual duty hundreds if not thousands of time before. But in the middle of the ring, the man who held the blow horn in his hand, was the Ring Master.

The Ring Master would usually shout out the words, "Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls of all ages, welcome to the greatest show on earth. Today you will see animals from around the world, along with supernatural humans who can perform super stunts of un natural ability. And not to forget the funniest clowns on earth. Leave your problems outside of the circus tent walls, and enjoy the greatest show on the face of the earth." The Ring Master said that just to remind those unformed individuals that the circus was a special place to enjoy people who loved to make people laugh and help them escape their own weird moments of everyday of life.

Because Caprice had traveled all over America, she had seen all of the different types of peoples who lived in America. Talk about weird, ‘Thought Caprice.’ The gay parades in San Francisco, the Indian dancing in America’s deserts, the hip hop dances in the night clubs of New York city and other cities, the country dances in the western bars, the ball room dancers in their secret locations, police officer ball dances in their secret locations, religious dancers in their specific churches, and of course, the man on the moon dance which was performed by only a few human males in their space suits. How could dancing clowns be any different from all of those other dancers. Maybe, it was the colorful uniforms the clowns wore to work. How many people would wear so many funny looking colors with no real pattern at all? Yet some very shy people might start to dance, if they could hide in a clown costume.

But clowns wearing dark business suits would not be fun to watch in the circus rings, would they? How many children would laugh at dark suits? thought Caprice. So, as she finished dressing into her clown suit, she looked into a mirror and looked at the red baggy pants with the yellow stars and she checked out her huge oversized white shoes with its tint blue stars and she looked at the bright blue stiff gloves with the white stars and she looked at her yellow wiggly hat, but then she looked at her face. A face painted white with one eyed circled with a blue star and another eye circled with a red star, and a mouth with a huge red painted smile in it, and at times, she wore clown’s sun glasses when she really needed to hide her eyes from the crowd; because believe it or not, clowns do possess painful feelings located in their life memories. ‘How could one picture bring joy and pain to a person until the day she died?’ questioned Caprice to herself.

‘Show time?’ thought Caprice. Turning around to start her jog to the entrance of the outside circus ring, she joined the other clowns who were also dressed in their professional attire, so they could hide their personal lives behind colorful paint and colorful clothes, in order to make the crowds of children laugh so they too, would forget their own personal lives, if only for a moment of time. ‘For only a moment of time.’ wondered Caprice. How could a single moment of time linger as it is forced into the mind of a single child, stay with that child during their forever land as they walked on planet earth?’ A single moment of time, smaller than the Big Bang Creation of the seemingly physical universe, but more powerful when happens in the mind of a single child. A child with a clear mind, pure as the white snow, but with the start of a few little big bang moments that turn into lasting lifetime memories.

A normal child who has no memories of the Big Bang Creation, but they sure have memories of the little big bangs that are forced into their brains memory processes; little big bangs such as getting hit for no reason. Or watching their parents take drugs and then die on the family couch. Or seeing a family pet die and being buried in the backyard. Or seeing another child suffer in the hospital until they are dead. Or seeing a war on television with real men who thought they were tough, until a single bullet cuts into their soft chicken skin, only to open that soft skin wide open, to let life blood slip to the muddy ground. Or when they see a car accident where two or five or ten cars are smashed up on a wintery pure white snow cover highway, until that pure white cover earth is covered with the red blood of people who died in a single little big bang moment because a stupid moron drove drunk or because they were driving to fast: Or both. Single little moments that never leave the mind of a child, even if they live to be 100 years old. But there are good single little moments too!

The clowns all ran out to the small entrance ring and they all ran to their prepared stations, all performing their prepared specific clown acts. Only Caprice had the gift! All the other clowns knew of her special gift, so they were all watching her as she danced as no other clown could ever dance, nor like any other human being on earth. Caprice danced with the angels and the angels danced with Caprice. But within the dance of a clown was the dance of a purpose, the purpose of saving a child’s soul. Caprice had the gift and she used it wisely. She danced closer and closer to the crowd, as she looked for the one child who was not laughing at all. A single child that had not laugh during her two hours at the circus, the circus of forgetting a child’s pain. She was looking for the saddest child that she could find in the crowd. But Caprice had help from the angels. She knew that one of her guardian angels would point out that saddest child, the child who needed an ever lasting happiest little big bang memory ever, a memory that would last throughout the rest of her earthly lifetime, through a life time of human joy and suffering, even if that life time lasted 100 years.

In a single moment, Caprice saw her. A little girl who was looking down towards the ground, while all of the other children were laughing and carrying on as all little children do at the circus. After the monkeys jumping up and down on the elephant’s backs, after the twirling dancers on white and brown horses and, after those tightrope walkers walking on a thin rope high up in the air, after the trapeze artists who swung on the ropes high up above the ground, after the music raging through the loud speakers, after the Ring Master yelling to the crowd to have fun, after the preparation clowns splashing water on each other, after a man was blown out of a cannon, after a lady blew fire out of her mouth, after the monkeys danced on the elephant's backs, and after so much more.

A little girl was sad! In the circus? A little girl was so sad in the circus that she never ever looked up to watch the circus. A little girl who was so filled with some kind of pain, that she needed help, the help from the magical clown. Caprice danced up to the sad little girl, waving her hands to and fro, smiling at the little girl, and then Caprice whistled at the sad little girl, until she looked up at Caprice. Caprice then whispered some magical words to the sad little girl. The sad little girl smiled; maybe for the first time in her life. Caprice heard the angel’s voice and Caprice put her hands out for the little girl and the little girl looked at her mom. Her mom shook her head yes, and Caprice and the little girl were off to the big circus ring.

Caprice’s mind met up with the little sad girl’s mind, to raced within and through that little girl’s many dream worlds. Caprice was racing like a fighter jet pilot, trying to search out the hidden enemy that had hurt the little girl. All the while, Caprice the clown picked up the now laughing little girl and tossed her up onto a miniature brown with white striped horse. Caprice the clown guided the little girl’s hands to the rope around the neck of that brown and white stripped miniature horse, while she watched the little girl begin to laugh even louder than ever. Caprice searched within the shadow mind of the little girl, trying to find that one memory that might have nearly killed the little girl, or for that one memory that on little girl should never, ever own in the first place. Caprice looked up to the sky, to the invisible airless sky, a sign from the guiding angels to help if they could, if they would. Of course they would! A few seconds later, Caprice had locked onto her target, a mental memory image, hidden within the little girls mind, away from her everyday life, but which had touched the heart of the little girl. Caprice went to work to destroy that bad image with its profound effects of breaking the little girl’s heart and soul. To heal her memory was Caprice’s real job, so the little girl, the little child, would begin a new life, a life that might change the world, one day.

The little girl rode on the miniature horse around one ring, and then another clown guided the miniature horse around the big ring, and then Caprice jumped forward to the third ring to guide the horse back to the first ring. The little girl jumped off the miniature horse and ran up to her mom, as she yelled, ‘Mommy, mommy, did you see me ride the horse?’ Her mommy’s facial expression had transformed into a surprise state of relieve. Her little girl was smiling and laughing and even yelling out the words, ‘Did you see me, mommy? Did you see me riding the horse?’ Another clown jumped up to the little girl and handed her an instant picture that he snapped with an instant camera. He handed the color picture to the little girl and he handed another picture to her mom. Her mom looked at the picture and then brought the picture close to her physical heart as a sign, a sign of approval to the special clown Caprice. Another clown snapped a second picture of the little girl and the mommy and with Caprice in the middle of the two happy people.

Caprice always added a special touch at little big bang moments like this by reaching inside one of her big clown pockets and she took out a mini clown hat. She quickly reached it out to the little girl and put it on her head. Then she again quickly reached into the big clown pocket and Caprice pulled out a big fat red plastic nose and she slipped it onto the little girl’s nose. And for the third time, Caprice reached into her big clown pocket and pulled out a paper clown costume and quickly slipped it over the little girl. Another clown took a picture and handed the picture back to the little girl. The little girl was so happy that she brought tears to her mother. I n the mist of the laughing crowd, the mother rose up and quickly hugged Caprice the Clown. Caprice again went into fighter pilot mode and reached into the memories of the mom who also seemed sad.

In a split second, Caprice had found the single little big bang image that had triggered the bad memory for the mom and the little girl. Because Caprice knew that adults could handle words better than children, she whispered into the ear of the little girl’s mom. "Just remember these words and teach them to her little girl in your own time. The seeming realm of death can not destroy the love between two creatures. In one sense, the seemingly realm of death can bring certain people closer, only on a different level of life. The fires on earth, and in our human hearts can never stop the lights of love and of the lights of the real heaven from being brightly alive, even as they can brightly shine within us too. Just remember!"

Caprice quickly looked into the eyes of the mom with a stare, and then she waved good-bye to the little girl. The Ring Master was yelling through the bullhorn, "Ladies and Gentlemen. Boys and girls of all ages. Thanks for coming to the greatest show on earth. Come again when we return next year, with better memories for all of you. We hope that all of you will ever forget your visit at the greatest show on earth. We hope that you all enjoyed the show."

Sunday, April 8, 2007

Trent the Truck Driver

52 Stories in 52 Weeks: 2007: ## 14 Trent the Truck Driver

By: Mr. George Patnoe Jr.'s Ambidextrous Writing Brain + Mind

As a very young boy, Trent’s dad had always given him miniature toy cars and trucks as, gifts for fun, for learning, and for dreaming. Trent collected and played with each miniature toy car and truck as if it had a life of its own, just like the real cars and trucks that were to big for him to drive. As Trent looked down onto each miniature car or truck, Trent tried to imagine being the driver of each car or truck, just as if he was the adult driver in each specific miniature toy or truck. As Trent’s hand pushed each miniature car or truck, Trent imagined being in the driver’s seat and he imagined scenes from colorful pictures in magazines and books or from his dad’s collections of both film and digital pictures. Trent’s favorite miniature was the miniature truck that adults called the transporter truck that carried and hauled the miniature cars to any car dealership anywhere in America. Trent was not old enough to know the country called America, even though he said the Pledge of Allegiance at the start of every school morning. Trent feared that other young and inexperienced students were also lifting up their hands and repeating patriotic words and phrases without knowing what they all meant. Naturally, the adults knew more, but they would not tell much, just as they would not tell much about driving cars.

But as Trent pushed the transporter truck to the miniature dealership store that his dad had built for him, Trent would think about what kind’s of people would buy what kinds of cars. There were so many cars to choose from; not only in Trent’s backyard, but even as they drove by Trent’s house and school and church and store and even the school bus. As Trent sat on the school bus, he would wonder where all of those drivers were going, and what kind of music they might be listening to, and how much money they earned, and what kinds of pets they owned, and if they went to church or believed in a God somehow. Trent worshiped at a local church with his parents, but he would rarely listen to the preacher because he mainly repeated what he stated in every Sunday lecture. Instead, Trent would look around at the people and he would try to guess their jobs, where they lived, and more importantly, what kind of car they drove.

After each sermon, Trent would watch people walk to their cars to learn if his guessing games of matching people with cars were correct. Trent just loved trying to read people by the cars they drove and the shoes they wore and the pens they wrote with and the books they read.

One late night, his dad brought a new friend home for dinner. His dad had met him at a highway restaurant while they were eating their meals at a counter top. People sat really close at the restaurant’s counter top, so friendly strangers could chat if they were in the mood to chat. One word led to another word, and Trent’s dad invited the transporter driver to dinner. The transporter truck driver was also a writer, but very few people had read his books. He wrote books about his travels on the highways throughout America. The book’s cover had a huge and colorful transporter truck that was loaded with new, shiny and colorful sports cars and a few pickup trucks. Trent smiled at the book’s cover and then thanked the transporter driver. As they all sat down for dinner, Trent’s dad and the transporter driver talked about worldly issues, as Trent looked through the book.

Trent opened the book and he started to read the book, and he looked at the colorful pictures. Each picture had the huge transporter with cars on it, but the cars and the backgrounds were different on every page. There was a picture of the Big Apple city of New York, with its tall buildings, while another page had the gambling streets of Las Vegas. Then, as he turned the pages he saw a picture of a farmers home, with tall corn fields in the background and cows and even a few horses nearby the house. There were so many more pictures. Under the pictures were footnotes that described the state and even the car dealerships of where the transporter driver was taking the new cars, for the people who needed new cars and trucks to drive to work, to school, to church, to the store, to everywhere in America. Trent was more interested in guessing what kind of people would be purchasing what kind of dream car. Trent had seen how hard his dad worked to buy his new car, and he simply arrived at the logical conclusion that everyone who owned a brand new car must have worked really hard to pay for their colorful dream car.

Just as the transporter truck driver was about to leave the diner table, to leave the house, the transporter truck driver turned towards Trent and asked him, "How would you and your dad like to go for a ride in a real transporter truck before I leave town. We could take a ride now if you have nothing else to do?" Trent turned towards his dad and smiled, knowing that his dad would get the message. "Sure, we can take a short ride." His dad responded. As they stepped outside the house, Trent saw the huge transporter truck, with all of the cars on it. Trent was so speechless, that his dad picked him up and loaded him into the transporter trucks seat. Trent looked at the dashboard with all of its instruments, and then he looked out the window. The transporter driver started up the engine and off they went. Trent watched the driver move his hand as he shifted the gear stick.. Trent wanted to read the transporter driver, but he was just so interested in the truck and how to drive it. He was trying to memorize every move of the transporter driver. The view was great.

As Trent looked out the window, he felt on top of the world. He could look down onto all of the other cars and trucks. The transporter driver said, "A driver is always guessing or reading what the other drivers are going to do as they drive down the street. There are slow and careful drivers and then there are the fast and careless drivers. Just remember this Trent, Speed kills more drivers and their passengers than any other cause of highway deaths. When you grow up and you drive a car or a truck, always remember to drive careful and do not speed beyond common sense. No one can disobey the laws of physics. Do not pretend to be a race car driver on the highway." As he finished those words, a speeding car passed the truck and it almost hit a motorcycle.

The transporter truck driver returned them to their house, and he waved goodbye.

Bedtime had arrived for Trent, so his dad quickly reminded him to take a shower so they could read the book together. As Trent laid under his truck print bed blanket, his dad picked a chapter from the book. His dad opened the book to a chapter with a picture of the transporter truck located next to the Grand Canyon. His dad read the footnote under the picture, ‘The Grand Canyon is a deep gorge in Arizona, which was formed by the Colorado River. It is almost 227 miles long and between 5-15 wide, and in places, it is almost 6,000 feet deep. It became a national park in 1919. Trent looked past the truck and he looked at the Grand Canyon. He said, "Wow, I bet every transport driver gets to see many places like that." His dad responded, "Well, the transport driver mostly drives the transport truck from the car maker to a car dealership or seller. He probably does not visit a new place every day or even every month. But every once in a while, the transport truck driver takes a short break from driving and he visits a place like the Grand Canyon. Good night Trent."

Many years later, Trent had just woke up from a dream, while he was sleeping in his own transporter truck cab, on a small padded bed in the cab. Trent still had the copy of the book that he had received as a boy. But now he was writing his own transporter truck book. Only instead of pictures of America’s grandest of big and small cities and towns, and its farm lands and its rivers and lakes and mountains, Trent’s book was a book about the special people he had met throughout his travels in America. He had pictures of a mystic, of a teacher, a very old Indian, and other Americans that were born in America, but also of people who were born in other countries.

‘What does it mean to be an American?’ Trent always asked himself as he traveled from one town to another town or city. Trent always moved every few years or so just because he always needed a change of people and scenery. As Trent drove on the highways of America’s countysides and of America’s small town and huge cities, Trent would look down onto the cars that were once brand new and shiny, he would look down at the drivers of those cars and he would wonder how many of them were truly happy with their cars. Trent knew that everyone wanted a brand new shiny car or truck, but he also knew that somehow, after they became used to their cars and trucks, or after their cars and trucks were scratched or damaged, or the paint was just dulled by the sun and sea and road salt, everyone realized that all new cars and trucks ended up as rust, sooner or later.

Adult’s cars and trucks are not really toys, but machines of steel and rubber and modern day electrical systems so people can travel around the planet earth, to work, for money, to buy nice clothes so people can go to school and work and even to the state parks. A BMW for transporting businessmen to work, a four wheel drive sports utility vehicle for transporting nature lovers to the state parks, a corvette for transporting lovers to a party, a police car for transporting criminals to jail, fire trucks for transporting firefighters to fight fires, an ambulance for transporting sick people to a hospital, a school bus for transporting children to schools, taxis for transporting people who did not own cars or trucks.

It seemed everyone had a place to go, except the older people who knew that once they had traveled as much as they wanted, and they had no where else they wanted to go, there was only one place waiting for them, at the end of their lives. Trent realized this fact very early in his transporter truck driver career, which is why he sought out all of the different religions he could in his spare time. He had visited many kinds of Christian churches that preached different views of the Bible, and he had also visited Buddhist monks who believed in ‘the four noble truths that state all existence is suffering, that the cause of suffering is desire, that freedom from suffering is nirvana, and that this is attained through the ‘eightfold’ path of ethical conduct, wisdom and mental discipline including meditation.’ Trent had thought a lot about suffering; he had no choice! He had seen to many car and truck accidents for to many reasons on America’s highways and byways. Some people died slowly, even if they were driving slowly and being careful, while other people died fast, without one seemingly ounce of suffering. What would the Bible and Buddha state about the suffering of car and truck accident victims? Laws of chance and probability; laws of nature; laws of physics and laws of metaphysics; laws of God - what are God’s laws? thought Trent.

Trent now lived in Alaska, where he had met some very old Eskimos shamans, or people who could communicate with the spirit worlds and even travel to them. Trent would listen to the Alaska’s shamans as they told him strange stories of the great beyond, but he had never experienced any kind of religious or mystic experience. One old Eskimo shaman had become a friend to Trent, but he had died a short while ago, though Trent thought that he could somehow hear his voice.

Trent poured himself some coffee after he hopped into the transporter truck seat. The morning was cold in the winter’s air, but he had to drop off the cars to the assigned car dealership very early that morning. So Trent stepped on the clutch as his hand moved the gear stick from one gear to another, as the transporter truck picked up speed on the snowy and icy road. Soon, it had reached a seemingly safe speed of fifty miles an hour. He saw the lit mountain tunnel ahead of him. He always remembered the old drivers advise of not playing games with the laws of physics, so he slow down the transporter truck a bit, just to be on the safe side. He thought that when he entered the long tunnel, that he would be on dry road, so he would be safe from sliding on ice and snow. But he never saw the black ice; a transparent ice that is hidden to all drivers.

Trent had driven for thousands of rides, but this was the first time he heard the roar of the strange sound, though he had no time to turn his head around to see what was pushing the truck’s rear end towards the tunnels’s steel frame, he nevertheless realized that a snow avalanche had just missed the front of this truck, but not its rear end. As he looked down the yellowy lit tunnel, he felt the transport truck being turned over as it smashed into the tunnel’s wall, until it stopped, up against the tunnel’s wall. When Trent snapped to half consciousness, he felt the blood that dripped from his forehead. He quickly realized that his head had slammed against the truck’s steel frame, and the glass window was broken, but all of a sudden, Trent was then in a different tunnel.

A tunnel without air, even though it was airy. A tunnel with light, but not light from a million light bulbs. A tunnel that he could never see with his brain, but which he now saw with a different kind of mind, an immaterial mind. Trent, being half aware and half unaware, thought that he was half way between death and life, but he still felt alive as a conscious human would feel, only as if he were slipping into a dream beyond the sleeping dreams of dreaming mankind. But this was no dream. Trent had to get his wits about him as he traveled into this new tunnel of light.

As Trent realized that his human body of bloody skin and broken bones still laid half way out and half way in the human mountain road tunnel, he felt his a skinless and boneless part of him, a part of pure consciousness, traveling beyond earth, between earth and yet another place, another dimension, another realm of time and space. Yet somehow, Trent knew he was moving through another kind of tunnel, a tunnel that he was beginning to see more and more as every second passed in the meta-tunnel.

He saw other specks of light, many specks of light, so many specks of light that he could not see them, even with his new awareness of seeing and hearing. Yet, in a split earthly second, Trent felt the touch of a touch he had felt many times before on planet earth. The touch of an old friend, that of a very old Eskimo Shaman who had tried to teach Trent meta-life lessons for his traveling book, but before the Eskimo Shaman could finish those meta-life lessons about the spirit world and time travel and even traveling to other worlds, other universes. Trent did not have to think a word, because he somehow knew that he needed to learn another lesson from his friend the old Eskimo Shaman, before he woke up in the earthly hospital, or just in the broken and cold mess of a transport truck.

In an instant, Trent saw himself next to a hot and bright fire on earth, with his old friend the Eskimo Shaman speaking in the English language. The Shaman looked up towards the stars as he talked to Trent. "Throughout all space and time, and beyond space and time, many connections are made by all living creatures, yet some connections are more powerful than other connections. When two souls meet on earth, the most powerful connection is that of love and not of cars and trucks. It is one thing to read people by the cars they drive and the clothes they wear, but there is another tool of how to measurement people, and that tool is love. How much love does a person give to the flowers, to the trees, to all animals (especially before we eat them) and even to other people, especially to those people who truly need love.

Yet, love can not be measured by a car or a machine on earth. Love can only be measured by the invisible light that shines within the heart of a true human being. When you return to earth, seek to increase your own love while you love all living creatures even as you love the universe and the planet earth’s life that is a gift from the Divine Creator. But talk to no one of that invisible love, for true spiritual love is beyond all earthly words. Nevertheless, write about that love in your books and when we meet again, we shall learn more of love on earth before you return to this tunnel."

Trent felt the invisible hand no more as he raced through the meta-space and time, back to the body that was bloodied and broken. As he felt that body, he felt other hands on his skin and muscles, as they carefully lifted him up to an ambulance stretcher. He looked up towards and nights bright stars and then to the bright lit mountain tunnel, and he started to laugh, very loudly. As the ambulance attendants pushed Trent’s stretcher into the ambulance, Trent asked them if they could turn him around so he could watch the lights in the tunnel. The attendants turned the stretcher around, so in went Trent. They gave Trent some morphine to kill the pain, but Trent was still wide eyed enough to see the dim lights of the mountain’s tunnel. Trent closed his eyes after a while, and relaxed. Trent started to see his old friend the Eskimo shaman while he heard his whispering voice, "I will help you write that book too."

Monday, April 2, 2007

Perry The Prince, In A Prison Of Pain.

52 Stories in 52 Weeks: ## 13 Perry the Prince, In A Prison of Pain:

By: Mr. George Patnoe Jr.'s Ambidextrous Writing Brain + Mind

The Prince had been captured as part of his fallen army, most of them plainly dead from steel poles and swords being thrown into their skin. The Prince was tied up as a common soldier, because his captors did not know he was a prince, and he planned to keep it that way. Once inside the prison, once inside his own small blocked off room of cement and brick and steel, he heard the sound of pain through the air, just has he had heard the sound of ducks begging for bread through the nature’s air. When ducks begged for bread from the walking humans, he would give the ducks bread, if he had bread to give the ducks. But what could he give those who moaned with cries of sadness because their torn and bloodily bodies laid helpless in their own individual blocks of cement and stone.

Almost a breathing graveyard is what the prince thought he was in, but somewhere, somehow, there had to be life too. But still, the rest was needed from the bloody battles which raged over the grassy battlefields when wars were fought for his king and queen, who were probably dead too, by their own personal beheading. The overpowering army probably killed the king and queen just for the fun of it, or maybe they were be carried off to be beheaded, in the public square; because beheading seemed to the be the enjoyment of the day. The prince never enjoyed watching beheadings, even though he knew that they were a fast and clean way to die, compared to the men who fought in the battles, on the battlefields for the king and queen’s freedom.

Perry always thought of being a monk, living somewhere safe, like in a cave, away from the king and queen and his responsibilities from being a warrior prince. His own historical blood forced him to kill other royal blood when the need arose in a country and in an age where killing seemed to be the way to settle disputes over land, power, money, and even fame. How insane it all is, thought Perry the Prince, though no more a prince or just a unknown prince in a prison, with the sounds of pain all around him. He heard their moans and even when he did not hear their moans, he heard the sound of them sleeping, in deep sleep, where pain would disappear for the moment. The sun’s settling angle caused the darkness to flow over the prison, when darkness would force some men to sleep and dream, while other men would be force to think and ponder and wonder how to escape their current living quarters, even if by death.

Perry the Prince, who was a prince warrior / warrior prince suddenly became Perry the Philosopher. A forced philosopher who needed to save his sanity from any possibly insanity that might occur while he sat alone, surrounded by gray cement walls, and steel doors and bars, more importantly death. Perry the prince knew he would manage to escape his current situation somehow, although he did not know how, just yet. He knew that some unexpected and possibly divine intervention would again, set him free to live another day, in another life, for another reason. Some called the prince a lucky guy, like the cat who has nine lives, but who maybe is in truth, an immortal cat. Sometimes Perry the prince felt immortal, as if he had lived another life, and he was supposed to wake up of some mortal dream to some spiritual self, a self that lived in another dimension of a different space and time, or maybe of no space and time.

But for now, if there was a spiritual side to Perry, Perry did not see it, though he felt as if he somehow felt that side, that invisible shadow that followed him around wherever he traveled, as if there was no escape from this spiritual shadow which transcended above all earthly conditions, but somehow forced its way into his own personal life, like water that transforms into steam and then into water and then into ice, and back again over and over again and on and on and on. Perry laughed out loud as he thought, ‘Boy, I wish I was steam right now and then I could transform back into this body afterward, only outside this prison.’ Perry, tired from the days events, fell asleep.

After a few hours of deep sleep, after Perry’s mind had lost itself from the world, Perry floated off from the prison of pain world as he dreamed a dream of magical wonder. Perry saw one part of himself drift through and then away from the prison’s cement walls, as he looked upon his sleeping body laying still in the prison bed. The dream state being what the dream state is, Perry’s dream shadow saw the bodily Perry float as light as a feather through the air as if there was no air. After all, how can there be real air in the dream state or in other realms and universes? thought the shadowy Perry, as he watched the bodily Perry float away from the prison?

The shadowy Perry watched the bodily Perry float away from the prison, higher and higher until he was high enough to reach a small cloud. As he touched the light and white cloud, he felt the water as it was building up in and as the cloud. Even the white cloud felt like a sponge, thought the bodily Perry. The shadowy Perry lifted itself p to the cloud, and it pushed the bodily Perry in a downward direction, only in this realms, this dream realm, a push from your shadowy self can cause your bodily self to quickly speed up and move faster than the skin and bones and body could ever realize on planet earth. The shadowy Perry watched as the bodily Perry rushed towards the earth, only it was rushed towards a cave on a very tall mountain.

People who wore robes walked all along the mountain, and in and out of the cave. The bodily Perry was pushed in the direction of a grand old white haired and bearded monk, who also had a long white ponytail. The bodily Perry felt as if he was being pushed in one direction and in one direction only. Floating through space, he quickly and easily closed in on the cave’s entrance. A bright light was exiting the cave’s rather large entrance, but there was no escape for the bodily Perry, thought the shadowy Perry. When he noticed the bright light, the shadowy Perry knew that the bodily Perry was forcefully bought here to learn a lesson or lessons, though the shadowy Perry guessed what he was here to learn, he could only watch the bodily Perry helplessly stop at the cave’s entrance. He hovered at the cave’s entrance, as if he had a choice to make, why would he worry about pain? He was in the either world, where pain seemed not to exist.

The bodily Perry looked around the cave’s entrance, just to look for any sign of danger. He was in a new universe, so he had to learn new experiences and rules in this new universe. But the only danger he saw was a Roman statue with a two-faced bust. A voice whispered to both the bodily and shadowy Perry, "Janus, the god of gates, doors, doorways, beginnings and endings." The shadowy Perry wondered what his earthly counterpart, the bodily Perry, would do when faced with the choice of facing the god of an invisible door and gate of the cave, along with facing a new beginning.

The bodily Perry looked at the Janus and wondered what the two face bust meant for anyone who looked at it. The stone bust looked thousands of years old, weathered by nature’s sun and rain and sand, but more importantly, by the stares of people who looked upon it and wondered what it all meant. The bodily Perry floated up to the cave’s entrance and he noticed an airless rippling wave that seemed to represent some sort of guardian energy field, or an energy field for some other reason. The floating bodily Perry tried to look backwards, as to look back in time, be he could not turn his head, unlike the Jan who could see behind him and in front of him, as the past and the future.

The shadowy Perry had snuck up closer to the bodily Perry and gave him a push, but just a slight push forward, only enough to inform the bodily Perry that he had no choice but to enter the cave, no matter what the risk to his dreamy stated of an immaterial dream body. The shadowy Perry could never be touched by these dreamy illusions, but the dreamy Perry was sustained by these illusions of human symbolism.. Nevertheless, Truth on any level could not be changed by any symbolizing dream world, or even by the shadowy Perry. The bodily Perry lifted up his hand and he moved his finger close to the energy field; as he was being careful enough to pull it back if he felt an invisible fire heating the dreamy skin that now constituted his finger. Nothing seem to be happening, so in he went; entering the dreamy cave’s entrance just as dreamy person would enter, except he possessed no choice about whether to go in or not. He just seemed to have a choice, even though he knew that he could not look back because an invisible string kept pulling him forward, into the light of the cave, into the future, into a new learning experience of the dream world.

The dreamy bodily Perry felt a tingling sensation over his dreamy airless body as his body was sucked into and through the cave’s waving energy field of a door. Once inside the cave, the light called out his name Perryyyyyy and then a new name, Janice (Hebrew, knowing God’s grace). Janice got the message, while the shadowy Perry remained outside, waiting for news, as a parent would be waiting in the waiting room of a hospital, as they waited for news regarding their child.

The shadowy Perry knew that the dreaming earthly Perry needed to learn a lesson, and that some lessons had to be learnt alone, even if a spiritual self or even a spiritual guide was watching the action from another plane of existence.

Janice felt the pull of the all-powerful light, and without any hesitation, Janice’s core being was sucked into the all-powerful light as if the light was the God of both the dream world and the earth world and even of the dead world; along with being the God of all the universes that ever existed or would ever exist in the future. Janice was no longer Janice, as a limited dream creature who was dreaming or who had a past or who wanted a future or who wanted death more than life to escape an earth of war and hate and killing and disease and evil that could not have been created by God of such infinite light, and love, and intelligence. Janice had become one with the all-intelligent Infinite Light as a drop of water would become one with the sea. Janice had become nothing and everything in one shot of God’s grace. Janice was no more and at the same time, forever more.

As soon as the transformation had began and ended, the shadowy Perry was also no more, but was even more than before. The shadowy Perry was always at one with the Infinite Intelligent Light as it watched the bodily Perry adventure forth around planet earth, but now, even the shadowy Perry’s inner awareness lit up with more glow than it had ever experienced before. It had been watching the bodily Perry on earth and in the dream world, but now that the bodily Perry had gone into the All Intelligent Light called God, the shadowy Perry also felt the sucking pull of the Infinite Light. Seconds later, the shadowy Perry was also sucked into the All Powerful Intelligent Light that some creatures called God, except it skipped the cave’s entrance. It took the fast lane. No dream worlds for the spiritual self of Perry or any person anywhere in the universe.

Perry the Prince felt the sun’s light melting through his eye’s eyelid, along with the aching of his bones of the wooden bench and the cool air bumping up against his skin. Naked or clothed, the wind always seemed to win against the toughest of men. A warm cup of tea would help Perry the Prince regain his earthly awareness. "What kind of dream was that?" he asked himself.

Perry the Prince kept his eyes closed, and even close them tighter, as he brought his hands up to cover the power sunlight from destroying the night dream visions which he did not want to forget. Perry the Prince had experienced these kinds of dreams before, just as other humans do, but many humans want to forget their nights dreams, their dream adventurers, but Perry knew better than to dismiss the dreams adventures that might contain messages from beyond and above the life and death of earth.

Wow, Perry the Prince remembered, ‘That was that light in the dream.’ Perry guessed that maybe he was awoken by the light of the dream instead of the light of the sun, but that was of no worry to him now. Perry sensed that his stomach was full of something, though he had not eaten a real big meal in few days. Perry felt his muscles and bones as he had never felt before now. ‘Odd!’ He thought to himself, feeling as if was going to jump up and be a real prince once more. He traveled back into time, back into his dream, to see and learn from the light in the dream.

There were other creatures in the cave’s light. They too, were full of radiating light, their own individual light, even as they were at one with the realm of the Infinite Light. One of those enlighten creatures moved forward to meet Perry. Perry’s bodily Perry stood still as he heard the words from the enlighten creature, "You must leave this dream to return to earth a new creature, a creature who must be a Prince of Peace instead of a Prince of War. You must show leaders of the planet earth that draining the blood of men from their bodies and their souls will not help the future of mankind. A second chance is hard to come by and now you must use your second chance wisely. We will help you escape from your prison of pains and from the cement prison and that the prison of blood memories. But now, meet some of your fellow earthlings who have become enlighten and listen to what they have to say, and then learn how write with a pen, instead of killing with a sword. Learn about Life, and Truth, and Love, and how those spiritual qualities should be reflected in all life on planet earth. So Perry listened to the enlighten ones, and so did Perry’s shadowy Perry. Everyone had yearned for enlightenment in Perry’s seemingly dream world.

Perry heard the beginnings of a new day at the prison. He was forced to snapped out of recalling his night dream and attend to the matters at hand, even if he was not in charge as a Prince would normally be if he was not in prison. As the prison guards opened the doors, prisons began to walk toward the food court, so Perry simply followed them. Most of the men looked as if they needed freedom instead of a good bed and a good night’s sleep. Nevertheless, Perry felt strange, because he now saw a different world, with different mental eyes; as if his mind had changed, along with his seeing. He did not feel as if he wanted to kill a single soul, not even the guards. But as he walked down the hallway to the food court, he felt the words flowing into his consciousness, "Be ready."

Perry saw the food court, grabbed some chow, and started to eat. He looked around, without lifting his head to high. Someone notice the Prince, not by name, but by his face. He pointed and yelled out, "The Prince, the Prince. What have you got to say dear old Prince?" The prince knew that he could not hide anymore. He stood up and stepped up onto a table and raised his hands to the heavens and he said. "Have no fear. While I slept, I dreamt visions of freedom and new hopes for our country and for the world. We need new laws and new judges and new economic policies, and a new religion. We need thinkers who will help create a world of peace instead of war. But for now, we will be set free from this prison of pain." One man cried out, "How do know that and how are you going to do it?" as some men laughed under their breathe.

Just as he was finishing his meal, and drinking the bad tasting warm tea, he heard the sound of an army of men who were crashing through the doorways and hallways and even though the walls. Perry’s army had gained their reinforcements, and they had one mission and one mission only, to free the son of the king, the Prince who would now lead the land with new ideas. The king was now dead. As the prison guards laid down their weapons, as they knew that they were overpowered both by the numbers of men and the weapons they carried, everything slowly became silent. One of the leaders looked at the Prince on the table and yelled, "There he is!"

A general commanded his men to free the prisoners and he walked the Prince to the sunny day, where his army was now waiting for him. As he mounted a tall white horse, he looked up to the sky and raised a hand to the heavens and he said, "Thanks for the help." In less than a second, a magical sort of bird flew straight up to and then landed on Perry the Prince’s shoulder. Everyone stood still as they stared at the bird on the Prince’s shoulders. As the silence was killing almost everyone, the bird squawked out loud, The King of Peace, The King of Peace!"

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When I was in college studying International Economics/Finance, I was also wondering how to develop a more powerful brain. So in 2001,I began a very specialized ambidextrous brain exercise program, for two hours per day,for many years. Those brain exercise began with me writing out words,mostly verbs, with both hands in different patterns.That developed into dual handed sentence writing to longer stories and dual handed drawing exercises.Details are for future books.I did these two hour brain workouts as a personal experiment to restructure my brain's neurons for the purpose of making my brain stronger for writing and language development; for logically creative storying writing.As far as I know, I am the only person in the course of history to have developed these ambidextrous hand/brain exercises.The purpose of these ambidextrous brain exercises is to strenghten both sides of the brain for language skills development, and to connect both sides of the brain together for language skills development. There is a very logical neurological reason for using two hands to write and draw as brain exercises. I also draw with both hands. 52 Stories is my testament!